Tu-Fira
by the.subverter
Summary: Thane contemplates the remainder of his days and his time with Shepard, while she tackles the war on the Reapers and her burgeoning relationship with Samantha Traynor. [fshep/ Thane, eventually fshep/Traynor]
1. Prologue

A/N: I've delayed putting this up for a while. In order to control my monstrous creations, the chapters are 1500 words or less and tend to be from the perspective of one character. I have 20 chapters banked at this point so I should theoretically be able to stay ahead of the game (for once). The first few chapters are much shorter. A Shepard x Thane and Traynor x Shepard story. Slooooooooooooooow romance.

* * *

He's drowning.

For years he has felt his breath extinguishing. He is calm in the face of his impending death. There is peace in certainty. He is not special. He is just another of his kind following the similar path Kepral's Syndrome has outlined for him.

If he lived a better life it might have been different. There might have been more time. He is a vessel that is faltering from too much use. He spent the majority of his years as an instrument. He dreamed.

When he awoke he had Irikah and for a small while, Kolyat. The memory of Irikah is as fresh as ever. The spice in the air, her sunset eyes. Memory is a blessing and a curse, uncontrollable, agonizing and enough to give him physical pleasure. He failed her. The death of her attackers does not cleanse his sins. She is at the recess of his mind, as much as one can be to a drell.

Sometimes waking is cruel but he appreciates his time with his son. Even now Kolyat tries to be strong. He hasn't changed much from when he was a boy. Thane reminds himself that Kolyat's once small life is a gift to the world. He is grateful to be partly responsible for it. He is grateful to Shepard for bringing him back into his life.

Shepard. Thanks to his eidetic memory, he can stretch their time into forever. It isn't real but it is. His lungs strangle him, refuse him air until he burns. Shepard had much the same effect.

Mordin warned them of expressing their affection. She made jokes about the hallucinations. He's a serious man. He worried about laughter during their intimate time together, what would happen the moment their flesh and tongues made contact against one another. They were left feverish, burning for one another. It was a daze both were happy to be lost in.

He remains at Huerta Memorial Hospital. His Siha has a hard road ahead of her. He fears they are not delivering his messages to her. He mourns any loss of peace she may have. She sacrifices constantly and asks for nothing. He worries and hopes that she has found another.

The peaceful skies of the Citadel are illusory. He spends his remaining days with Kolyat. His heart overflows with pride and love for him.

These days it's Shepard who fills him. When he does not meditate he falls at the feet of her memory. _Be alive with me tonight, Thane. _

The words were clumsy. They lacked the prose of his usual meditations, the works of art he reflects on, but they pierced him more deeply than any bullet or blade. That night they spent together is the reason he lives. He gets some satisfaction in proving the doctors wrong but it won't be long now. They won't be wrong forever. He knows he won't live long enough to see her finish this war. If she came to him now, would he be capable of being a lover to her? The doctors urge caution. It would be an unearned end- one he doesn't deserve. He smiles thinking of it before his smile falters. No doubt the end would upset her.

He exhales softly, the air burning like fire in his lungs. Tu-fira. He is drowning in her.


	2. Pulp

Ash is down.

The stench of blood fills Shepard's nostrils. Ashley's suit is cracked and charred, melted in places. Shepard searches for latches but finds them fused together. She paces the Med-Bay. Ashley's laid out like ground beef on a slab. Is this what she looked like when Miranda got her hands on her?

She grips the bed frame. Whatever that thing was nearly reduced Ashley to pulp. Shepard looks to the AI core where they threw the machine. She can't risk it coming live on the ship. She shouldn't have dragged it onboard but the information it downloaded could be valuable.

_Is it worth it?_ Blood is crusted to Ashley's nose and mouth. Her breathing comes as if through a strainer. She would have been a goner if it wasn't for the helmet. Kaidan died on Virmire. Ash's olive skin has gone a sickly grey...

Shepard's heart thumps violently. They might not make it to the Citadel on time. Anderson's on Earth. Thane is... she doesn't know where Thane is. Ripples of grim possibilities move like small earthquakes through her. No word from him while she was locked up. It's possible he's moved on. She prefers that possibility to the other.

Worried crew faces cloister around the Med-Bay window. She wants to be encouraging but it wouldn't be right to smile. She nods sternly at them, spotting her haggard reflection in the glass; she's paler than normal, black strands falling over her face and eyes. She needs to do better. The Normandy is a skeleton crew. She refuses to lose someone else.

Now isn't the time to think of Thane. What the hell was she thinking getting involved with a dying drell assassin mourning his dead wife? The Illusive Man garnered some of the most dubious individuals in the galaxy. She never expected an assassin with a conscience. They tend to disagree about his level of responsibility. The night before they went through the Omega-4 Relay she smiled despite her fear, to combat his. His lips tasted like tears.

"Shepard?"

Liara doesn't move with the cold confidence she did at the Mars Archives. She steps as if not to startle her. Shepard squares her shoulders but can't manage any reassuring smiles. _Get it together, Jane. This is only the beginning. _"Liara." There's no urgency in her movements. Shepard hoped there might be something Liara could do for Ashley but clearly that isn't the case. She won't vocalize her disappointment. Her eyes feel raw.

It's only the two of them and an unconscious Ashley but Liara whispers. "I know it's difficult but there's nothing we can do. You should rest."

"Sorry, Dr. T'Soni; I don't take orders from you." She smiles and her lip splits. The brief shard of pain rouses her. She touches it with her tongue and tastes rust. She tries to think of the last time that she slept or ate. Outside the Med-Bay window a young Indian woman locks eyes with her before swiftly looking away.


	3. The End Is Nigh

The initial excitement of being assigned to the Normandy for R&D has waned. The Reapers are doing their damnedest to make sure that her temporary assignment is final. Even EDI's delicious voice isn't enough to cheer her.

Earth has been blasted to smithereens (just about, anyway), her re-match against Polgara T'Suzsa has been indefinitely postponed, and oh, yes, the apocalypse is nigh. Bloody brilliant all in all.

The one shining beacon of light in the whole thing was being on the Normandy with the hero Spectre who has saved the galaxy's collective ass more than once (twice, tops), but even then, Samantha has been unable to say anything at all to her.

Their only exchange has been in glances as the commander rushes to and fro in her efforts to save the world. The fallen Ashley 'I'll-show-you-my-boomstick' Williams, is currently at Huerta Memorial Hospital, if Joker is to be believed. It'd be a shame for an ass-kicking looker like that to bite it. Worse yet, the sleek and now crispy platform that nearly did her in is lying in the AI core. Samantha verges from wild curiosity to horror.

EDI is more pragmatic though her voice is tinged with caution from time to time. Whoever wrote her programming is a genius. She's nearly indistinguishable from an AI.

_That's because she is one. _

Would Joker lie to her? Probably. But would EDI? Perish the thought. The VI happens to be her favorite person on the Normandy. _The world is ending and you're pre-sulking about feelings that have yet to be hurt? Your priorities are rubbish._

_**You're**__ rubbish,_ she snaps back, mentally berating herself for several more minutes before EDI announces that Commander Shepard has returned aboard.

Samantha steals a look at herself in the Medical Bay window. _Your vanity is eternal_. But it isn't a matter of vanity. The first time she meets (meets-meets) Commander Shepard, she should look professional: groomed and ready for duty. _Tell yourself whatever you like_. "Quiet, you."

"Pardon, Specialist Traynor?"

Samantha looks at the ceiling apologetically. "Not you, EDI. I'd never tell you to be quiet," she gives a soft sigh a pleasure. "I could listen to you talk all day."

"The feeling is mutual."

"Is it?" She smiles before considering, lowering the data pad she studies. "Are you_ sure_ you're a VI?"

Seconds pass. "Yes."

Samantha nods, looking pensively back at the platform that still practically sizzles in the AI core. _Is that the figure gynoids get these days? How is anyone expected to focus? _She dreads the day a body like that is paired with a voice like EDI's. Her brain would fry. _Your brain?_ She's tired of her own attitude. "As much as I'd like to keep poring over this, it's time for me to get back to the CIC. We'll pick up later?"

EDI agrees and Samantha hastens her footsteps to the second floor. A cluster of the crew is crowded around the steps. Normally she'd stop by and chat but Westmoreland and Campbell have recently introduced her to Skyllian Five games that she's surprisingly lousy at. Her credits have declined faster than her 'literally, there is nothing worse than khakis' attitude. At this rate she'll never get that bloody toothbrush. So she stands at the elevator, pushing the button with urgency, knowing that it won't make it come faster, only make herself feel better.

When the doors slide open she's face to face with Commander Shepard, Liara T'Soni and James Vega. All sweaty from some heroic thing they've no doubt surely returned from doing and they're catching her being late. _Damn it._

James moves to the crew milled around the steps while Liara gives a sidelong glance to both women before exiting. Samantha bites her tongue, ignoring the flush crawling up her cheeks. She wonders if Shepard and the asari are involved.

Commander Shepard holds her helmet at her side. Her pale and surprisingly smooth face is glazed with sweat, strands of black hair stick to her forehead and flushed cheeks. Her eyes... Are they blue or grey? _Don't stare! Are you out to embarrass yourself? Say something. Say __**anything**__. You need to give her a tour. Have you forgotten?_ "Um."

Shepard looks at her, lips ticking upward into something that resembles a smile. Samantha twiddles her fingers.

_{ Uh, Commander? Got Hackett on the comm for you? }__  
_  
Joker! The elevator doors open at CIC. "On my way," Shepard steps out of the elevator without so much as a glance back.

_Damn it._ On a positive note, Shepard will probably not notice that she's late. That's something, isn't it?


	4. Weight

Cerberus is going to be more trouble than she anticipated. Whatever they're doing to their soldiers is making them formidable. They barely made it out of their lab on Sanctum alive. Cerberus is experimenting with Reaper tech. Ashley wondered if Cerberus was working with the Reapers. Despite knowing their past, Shepard doubted the organization she was with only half a year ago could go so far. Maybe she was an idiot.

She's worried about James. He's pessimistic and hotheaded. He's hung up on the Collectors and Shepard can't blame him. She would have made the same decision but she can't say it wouldn't sting to have sacrificed the people she cared for and have it mean nothing.

Dr. Michele reports no changes to Ashley's condition. She's stable. It's something. The new communications specialist keeps her notified of all new messages but no matter the constant influx there is never news from Thane. _No news is good news. _She wonders if he knows she's no longer detained and if it would make a difference. She has no idea how to track him. Communication is down everywhere and even if it weren't, he's a known assassin. Keeping a low profile is his specialty. _He's fine. Just hiding._ Chakwas told her to keep a more optimistic view than a realist one but who's she fooling?

The elevator from the shuttle bay stops on the third floor. Shepard jabs the cabin floor button, belatedly noticing the comm specialist dashing to the elevator. Slamming a hand on the closing elevator doors, Shepard smiles apologetically as the specialist walks in. "Going up?" Traynor nods, her eyes fixed intently on her face.

"Um. You've got a ..." Traynor gestures vaguely at her face. Shepard's fingers come up. Her flesh is hot to the touch and pulsing. She crinkles her nose delicately and smells blood. She was distracted and James landed a good hit. She hadn't anticipated running into anyone before cleaning up. "Forget to wear your helmet? And erm, the rest of your hardsuit?"

"Forgot to duck," Shepard wipes at her nose and upper lip with the back of her hand. Traynor tsks at the revelation. "Just some friendly sparring. Nothing to worry about."

"I hope not. I don't know how receptive you'd be to 'not in the face'?"

Shepard can't make out if she's serious. Traynor gave her the tour some days back, practically racing through the renovations. Despite her dark skin, her face nearly went scarlet when EDI was revealed to be an AI. The blustering was unexpected, if not bizarrely charming. "I've instructed EDI to give me a log of all those... comments you made about her voice?" Traynor freezes, eyes widening. "This is an Alliance ship and that means no secrets and no fraternizing. Even with the ship AI."

"I ah," she twines her hands. It must be a nervous habit. "Erm- of course not. I mean. No. I - I will follow protocol, to the letter. To the tee. That's the same thing," she adds to herself. "I assure you-" she stops. "Oh, God. I'm so embarrassed. That's probably obvious." The doors to the elevator open and Traynor rushes out, quickly facing her, saluting stiffly.

Shepard waves the salute away. After all this time she's still unused to the sort of reverence her presence can evoke. She steps off the elevator and moves past Traynor, the door to her cabin sliding open. She thought it'd be impossible but Traynor's face darkens further. Shepard can practically feel the heat coming off her face. "Wrong floor?" she arches an eyebrow and tries not to smile.

"Ah, yes, it appears so," she moves backwards to the elevator, muttering under her breath.

Shepard halts in the cabin doorway before moving to the elevator again. Everyone on board is so serious. Traynor is less so. The ship is in dire need of levity. "Relax, Traynor. The Reaper War takes precedent to your flirtatious logs with EDI."

"Then it's clear that you've never seen me flirt, Ma'am. Just to clarify, you were just screwing with me a minute ago?" Traynor asks chipperly. Shepard nods. "Permission to speak freely?"

Shepard grins, seeing the glint in her eye. "Permission denied, Specialist." The pout on her lips is reward enough. "The CIC is on the second floor," she tells her helpfully. "Dismissed." She turns and goes into the cabin, shoulders slumping the instant she's through the door.

The room is darker than she'd like and it's tinged with a cold that's more than just the ship's regulated temperature. A few fish trudge through the fish tank waters. A picture frame sits vacant beside her laptop. Why doesn't she have pictures? She doesn't let herself dwell over the reasons. She checks for e-mails but there aren't any. She retreats to the bathroom and runs the water, wiping the stark blood from her face. A heaviness settles over her, trying to drag her to the floor. She resists.

She's removing her shirt for a shower when she hears Traynor on the comm. The shyness and moxie is gone from her voice as she soberly announces they're nearly to Menae. Shepard pulls the shirt back down and splashes cold water over her face with the hope it's enough to wake her. She'll head to the third floor and pound back some coffee and water. She stares into the mirror, watching the beads of water slide down her face. She ignores the dark circles under her eyes and the emerging sharpness to her face. _All right, Jane. Time to go rescue a Primarch. _


	5. Siha

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and follows, everyone! 31 chapters written and more to come! Hopefully that isn't horrifying.

* * *

_She is grace and wrath. _

_Shepard is a Siha. His lungs burn. These days he has trouble breathing. In this instant he is incapable. It's her. Her body is a work of art; the pinnacle of physical perfection. She moves like water. She disappears and reappears like a vision. _

_The battle is done. Shepard uncloaks at the top of a craggy pile of rust. Tuchanka is a desolate, dry planet, absent of beauty. It is the home of a faltering race, much like his. Shepard is vibrant and alive in this world. She unclips the helmet from her head, eyes scanning the field and settling on him. Her eyes are like the oceans of Kahje. Her lips tick upward._

_He is an assassin. He is cold. He failed his wife. He abandoned his son. He left his feelings behind long ago. He is a vessel. Only a vessel. But she..._

He thought himself incapable of being struck. Curiosity took hold of him. It was a change of pace from waiting. Waiting for his life to end. He researched her. She was a legend. She was a paragon of justice, honor, things he was unfamiliar with. In the beginning he believed she worked with him because of his prowess for killing.

He takes some pride in knowing that she wouldn't work with him if she truly found him reprehensible. Something inside of him was redeeming, worth saving and caring for. She visited him in the life support room. He liked the quiet but came to appreciate her visits. He learned she was just as curious about him.

_She smiles. Her fingers touch his chest. His heart flutters. He's excited and nervous. She turns her face up to his. His lungs feel as if they have collapsed. "Do you ever smile?" His lips part wordlessly. He is alive again. He touches her face. The room is cold but she's warm. She leans into the touch. Her hair smells of honey. "I love you," he says. The words rattle her. She looks up. Her eyes are startlingly bright._

Huerta Memorial has been flooded by victims of the Reaper War. Thane has little difficulty blocking out the sounds of despair and desperation. The Normandy has docked at the Citadel. He is lucky. He has hope where others do not, despite his impending death. He has tried once more to deliver a message to Shepard. He hopes it goes through. He mourns dying without seeing her one more time.

He stands. He exercises frequently but can still feel his muscles atrophying. He rolls his neck and swings his arm. Heat spreads along his ligaments. He is not what he once was. Then he stops. The reflection in the glass. He turns, hoping he is not lost in a memory. It's her. His Siha. Thinner than before, tired, but beautiful. She puts her hands on her hips. "Thane? I was looking for Tannor Nuara. Seen him?"

"Siha. I—" Shepard takes the two small steps up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her mouth finding his. The kiss is desperate and relieved. He nearly loses his balance to her passion but returns her kiss. When she pulls away to breathe she pulls him close, holding him tightly. It hurts but he is reassured by the strength of her arms. He strokes her hair. Her head is dipped. She listens to his heart. It must be deafening. "I'm glad you're all right."

"Me too." She pulls away and looks at him. "I was afraid—," she shakes her head, "worried—" She takes a breath, trying to find the right words, the ones that won't offend him and mark him as fragile. He curses his lips and face that feel numb. "It's good to see you."

"I sent many messages."

"I received just the one. I only play hard to get before someone's caught me." She takes his hand and they sit in silence for minutes. Thane memorizes the pressure of her hand, the softness of her skin. They stare out at the cerulean skies. She seems to breathe deeply. He smiles, wishing he could do the same. Even now he's lightheaded but is unsure whether it's due to Kepral's Syndrome or their reunion.

"I heard about Earth." Thane watches her. Her expression is serene but she is worn. He knows how hard she must be trying to maintain her composure. Though she isn't spiritual like he is, he thinks she shares the traits of individuals who often meditate. He can't recall a time he's seen her lose her cool. "I am sorry."

"Earth isn't lost yet. I won't lose it," she adds more quietly. "How are you?"

He doesn't wish to tell her how ill he is. Not now. Not when they've just found one another. She has enough worries. He would hate to add more weight to her shoulders. "I am... past my expiration date, as you humans say. But I am well. I would prefer to hear about you. After so many months away... Have you seen any of the others?"

"I found Garus on Menae," she smiles, looking at him. "I'll send him your regards. Liara's back." Thane nods. "And EDI has a mobile platform now. Same one that put Ash in the hospital a few weeks back. I'm going to have a hell of a time explaining _that _to her. Some old faces. Some new faces. There's a specialist who got caught on the ship while working R&D."

"A lucky circumstance."

"She has a crush on EDI."

He chuckles. "Just on EDI?"

"Well, she's got a few bad boys to pick from but I can't speak for her. She's all right." She gets to her feet. "It feels like years since I've seen you." Thane doesn't say that the sentiment isn't shared. He has been blessed and cursed with his memory. "Do you stay here?" He shakes his head. "Can we go somewhere?" she asks more quietly. She's pale and it always gives her away. Her cheeks color.

He is flattered. He is afraid he'll disappoint her. His head throbs. He gets to his feet, her hand still in his. "I have an apartment," he tells her. They start to walk to the elevator. "What about your friend?"

"She's made it through the worst," though he sees the guilt flash in her eyes. He is sorry to have said it. "They want to make her a Spectre so she's probably in better shape than I am." She makes it sound like a joke but he knows it isn't. "You're one of the things that's kept me going."

He knows the feeling well. "We'll return soon," he tells her, leading her to the elevator. Once the doors close he anticipates there will be another kiss but her eyebrows are furrowed. She's worried.


	6. Breath

His apartment is simple. Unlike some of the other squad members on the Suicide Mission, he did not receive payment. His actions were ultimately selfish; he wanted to cleanse his sins, atone for his past harmful actions. He is still sought by his enemies. It would be foolish to broadcast his location to the galaxy. Furthermore, he has Kolyat's safety to concern himself with. He refuses to be a burden on those he cares for.

Shepard takes in the sparse apartment. She's cautious. Life has made them that way. He sometimes forgets that she has also suffered great loss: squadmates, friends, her family. She's on edge. Once again, Thane is flustered. Only his departed wife had the same effect. He never expected to care so much for anyone, much less a human. She has a way of transcending all expectations.

The door to the apartment is barely closed before she kisses him, gentle and urgent. He has concerns but he must forget them for the time being. He owes her this, at the very least, nor can he deny that he also wants to share this time with her. She pushes the jacket from his shoulders, her fingers grazing along his chest.

He nearly falls into memory and curses his inability to control it at times. It would be poor to cripple this moment when he could have another memory to recall and comfort him at a later time. He hopes he will not be tormented by this experience. He bites back a cough and she stops to look at him, concern softening her features. "It's nothing," he tells her.

She's unsure but he kisses her again. Her lips part. Her tongue is warm but he has difficulty feeling her touch through the tingling. His kisses become vigorous; as if trying to convince himself. She moans softly and he delicately pulls the blue Alliance shirt from her pants. Shepard raises her arms obediently and the shirt is cast aside.

The next few minutes progress more quickly. They both have limited time though for different reasons. They remove each others clothing and then, with a gentle hand to his chest, she pushes him to the bed. He smiles. She has become bolder. "I love you," she tells him. Her eyes are sad. Does she regret her love? Does she regret their inevitable parting? Or his?

He brings a hand to the back of her neck and guides her closer. They are one now. His body flushes with heat. He has missed this. Her weight. Her breath. Her scent. The sounds she makes as they move together. Thane takes a hold of her hips as she cups his face with her hands, staring into his eyes. He had never thought his eyes unremarkable until he met her. So many fragments of color, so much emotion brimming in them. Their breathing grows faster as they increase their rhythm. Her face is flushed, lips the color of cherries.

He makes a small groan. "You all right?" she asks him breathlessly. He bites his tongue and nods. He will not let his body defeat this moment. He will not ruin what may be their last time together. He pulls her closer and her breath hitches. He memorizes her heat, her body is strong and primed, despite the wear. She is exceptional... and he...

"Siha—" he can't breathe. He has confused her. She thinks things are moving to their natural progression but he can't get any air into his lungs. His heart strains. He is becoming disoriented. No. Not now. Not this now. He thinks briefly of Arashu, begs silently for some aid, but he is not heard. She notices. Her eyes widen, movement's ceasing. He turns to the side and gasps for breath.

They're separated. The moment is broken. He has little time to live so the memory will not torment him so long as others have. She speaks his name but it sounds at a distance. He swings his legs to the side of the bed and hopes he doesn't vomit. That would destroy everything. Strange. He never thought himself a dramatic man. Perhaps dying will do that to a person. There's little time to spare for imperfections.

"I'm all right," he tells her, but his voice is broken and wispy. He balls his fist several times, hating that they could not complete their lovemaking. "I just need a few moments."

"I shouldn't have pushed you. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

"That your man was capable of being a lover. I'm afraid Kepral's Syndrome has taken even that from me." It is a battle not to cry but he refuses to allow this last indignity. He clenches his jaw, stretching it before squaring it once more. She presses to his back, chin buried in the crook of his neck. He touches his forehead with the palm of his hand and begs for the tears to remain dammed. "I am sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about." She wraps her arms around him. Her chest falls and rises. Eventually he feels his breath return to him. She pulls him back into the bed and lies beside him, a hand resting on his stomach. "I was..." he looks at her but she gives a subtle shake of her head. "You should have told me how..." she bites her lip. "Let's just lie here." He shifts, stretching an arm beneath her head and cradling her closer. "I don't have much time," she tells him apologetically.

"I know." Thane considers other venues. He is still able to pleasure her without physically exerting himself but the moment is ruined. She will not allow him to. She will mark this moment in her memory and begin distancing herself. It won't be intentional. It is a safeguard. He wonders if he has the courage to end things before time does. "If I were capable, I would join your in your fight."

"I know." She brushes her lips over his cheek.

He frowns.


	7. Treehouse

A.N/ I lied. Having multi-chapters in one chapter was killing me. So have this upload again. Apologies!

* * *

Commander Shepard has been impossible to get hold of. It's ridiculous. The ship isn't _that _large and outside of rescuing Primarch Victus things have been relatively slow going- out on the field, anyway. The Commander's vidcall list grows lengthier by the second. Hackett this, Captain Anderson that, not to mention all the alien diplomats that Shepard tries desperately to communicate with. _That_ meeting is forthcoming and that more than any battle seems to have all onboard particularly rattled.

"You have not spoken to Shepard yet," EDI points out. Samantha sits in the lounge room, scrolling through her data pad. EDI's new mobile platform is incredibly distracting. It's like her worst (best) dream come true.

EDI knows that Samantha has been trying to speak to Shepard about the signal coming from Grissom Academy. _Maybe it's good that you haven't caught up with her yet. You could be wrong and you'll make a complete ass out of yourself. _She does have a talent for that sort of thing. She bites her lip thoughtfully. "You should tell her. You had a hand in it too," she says, "and if my suspicions are right— well, we shouldn't waste any time. Not for vanity." But how she loves her vanity!

"You are correct. However, she has been unreachable since returning from the Citadel." She gazes at the ceiling. "She visited her cabin momentarily, but I did not feel it was appropriate to follow her inside in this platform." _Oh. _Samantha considers the imagery momentarily. EDI studies her arm experimentally. "I have been attempting to imitate organic life as closely as possible. The crew has been giving me a great deal more attention since I seized this platform."

"It is a step up from your last one."

"Was that a joke?"

_Yes. _She clears her throat and shakes her head. Most of the Normandy crew got shore leave on the Citadel. She was stuck aboard scrubbing communication channels and digging through the endless pile of e-mails directed toward Commander Shepard. At the very least the last one she sent her way seemed to cheer her spirits greatly. _I'm keeping up the morale of the most important person in the galaxy. I'm a bloody hero. _"You know what I mean," she hopes EDI doesn't, actually. She's readying herself to clarify further but is saved by the entrance of James and Garrus, in the midst of what appears to be another dick measuring contest. She grimaces gently at the thought.

"Hey, Traynor," James calls out. "Up for a game of Skyllian Blitz? Come on, I can't be the only cleaning Garrus out." Garrus snorts.

"I would like to play," EDI volunteers.

"Uh..." James exchanges a look with Garrus. "No offense, EDI, but I don't think either one of us would stand a chance in hell of beating you."

"That is correct," EDI's voice is momentarily dark.

Samantha grins, quickly exiting the room lest she be drawn in by their mischief. She'd love to play card games but James is a shark and she'd like to have _some _credits if she _ever _gets shore leave. What she needs is some peace and quiet but the ship is surprisingly lively today. She decides to duck into the Life Support room. It's her go-to in emergencies and there's next to nothing in it. Reinvigorated, she strides in, playing with the data pad again. She's almost _positive _that the signal has been faked. But by who? Cerberus...?

She doesn't have the opportunity to finish the reading material as she literally walks into Commander Shepard. _Oh, bloody hell. Really? _The Commander has never utilized this room (to her knowledge) so of course it makes complete sense that she's here. Samantha appears to have caught her in the midst of dumping some syringes and bottles of pills into the appropriate dispensers. _Oh my God. Is she doping? _Shepard is as paralyzed as Samantha feels and looks as if she's just finished a shower. Shepard pulls the ear buds away and looks at her. The room is dark but her eyes seem to glow. They're usually so friendly. This time, Samantha is alarmed by them. She can't make herself speak. "What are you doing here?" Shepard demands.

"Um. Uh." _Oh, great. Great! Please continue to blather incoherently! _"I'm sorry. I... it's quiet in here. I like to go in here because it's quiet." _In addition, you might say 'Here it is quiet, so I like to go in here.' You're mortifying. _

"This isn't a tree house, Specialist. You don't come in here to get space."

Samantha can't tell if she's angry or humiliated. She never had a tree house. Always wanted one, but if she were to choose one, it well wouldn't be a life support room. Everything seems off. She parts her lips several times to say something. "You're right. I'm sorry," is all she can come up with. Her heart is beating too quickly and she feels sick. "I— are you all right?"

"Did I give you permission to talk back to me?" Samantha's face burns. Shepard looms over her. Samantha glares at the floor. She isn't sure whether saying 'no, ma'am' would be grounds for another reprimand. Hadn't they been somewhat friendly the other day when she'd accidentally taken the elevator up to her cabin? Now she feels like an idiot. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Specialist."

Samantha lifts angry eyes to her face. Some of the anger fades. Shepard looks... out of sorts. Sad.

"Commander." EDI's voice comes over the intercom. Shepard steps back, rattled, as if waking from some nightmare. "Specialist Traynor has been looking for you regarding a suspicious signal she intercepted. I believe any tree house fantasy may have been secondary."

_I love her. I __**love**__ her. I'm a strong, independent woman that doesn't need saving (except from Reapers and apparently Commander Shepard) but I love her. AI organic love. _She wonders if there are extranet sites devoted to the matter.

Shepard isn't as smitten. She glares at the ceiling, swallows and takes the music player from her hoodie pocket, winding the earplugs around it. "Noted, EDI." Her voice remains clipped. She wipes at her face and then looks back at Samantha. She grits her jaw before reclining against the wall and sliding to the floor. She pats the spot beside her.

Samantha bites back a tree house comment. "I'll stand if it's all the same, Commander." Shepard nods without looking at her. Samantha takes a breath. "So... it may be nothing..."


	8. Grissom

She misses.

Shepard's still honed on the Cerberus soldier. His head explodes into bloody chunks but she isn't the one who took him out. Garrus' voice snickers on mic in her ear. _{ Come on, Shepard. You can't let me have all the fun. }_

Sweat drips down her face. She hears her own erratic breath as she lifts an arm, the shield of a guardian meeting it brutally. Her shields crackle. She staggers, clipping the M-92 Mantis to her back and cloaking. She throws herself into a corner, drawing the Paladin from her side, stepping out. His head is turned. It would be an easy shot. _Take it, Siha. _Too slow. The cloak is heating.

It falls away from her in the exact moment he turns. She clenches her fist and the omni-blade pops free. She drives it into the slot of the shield and hears a squishing, meaty sound. A vicious kick and the soldier falls back, his shield clattering uselessly at his side. She pants, flicking blood and skin from the omni-blade before it folds back into itself.

A burst of static alerts her to another incoming message. She's surprised to hear Samantha Traynor. { _That was close, Commander. Would it be out of line to ask you to move your ass? }_

"Very," Shepard tells her. She's already in enough hot water as it is. Traynor's 'it-may-be-nothing' signal has turned out to be one of the most rigorous Cerberus coups Shepard has seen. Their numbers are staggering. "How about you let me focus?"

{ _Of course, Ma'am. One more thing: you've_ _got two soldiers heading up on your six. __**Now**__, I'll stick to being a spectator. I'll bite my nails after all of this is over.}_

"No need, Specialist. I've got it all under control."

_{ Yes, Commander. }_

Unhinging the Mantis from her back, Shepard lines up the shot on the approaching engineer. The shot is slightly off-center. The soldier reels back but he isn't dead. The other stoops to grab him but his body is riddled with bullets before he has the chance. EDI's form emerges from the smoke, expelling a clip from her pistol. Her lips form a question but then they firm and stop.

Shepard stares at her, momentarily mesmerized. She didn't think a mobile platform like that could make such expressions. She's holding something back but Shepard doesn't have time to dwell on it and ask what it is. For all she knows EDI is speculating on the meaning of life.

"Let's hustle!" she tells the squad. They follow after her. She squares her jaw. It's tender and throbbing beneath the helmet. Jack still packs one hell of a punch. She told her she was an idiot to trust Cerberus. They all did. Shepard protested every accusation but she did trust them. _Was_ she an idiot? Did she think she could fix them? Bring them back from the brink? What the hell was she thinking? You can't fix terrorists.

* * *

He hasn't e-mailed her. It's like he's giving her time to forget him. The thought appeals and distresses her. His time is ending. She held it together, somehow, when she was with him. She even made it to her cabin. She didn't make it to the shower. She broke before she arrived, her fists curling against the cold metal wall. She slid to the floor and wept.

Then she chewed Specialist Traynor's head off when she caught her in the midst of dumping her regimen. It was melodramatic. Thane isn't dead yet. He was having a bad day. She hadn't known she'd hungered for his company. He can't join her on the Normandy, he can't be with her physically. What's left of them? Is she selfish? She tells herself she hasn't given up. Throwing away her medicinal regime wasn't a rejection of Thane; it was an acceptance that their relationship had to change.

People die, she tells herself. Countless have died in the Reaper War. At least he'll die of natural causes, not at the hands of those machines. Her mouth is still left with a bitter taste. She needs to focus. The Grissom Academy signal was urgent, which means she still hasn't met with the diplomats. Is she putting the world at risk by chasing after these small pockets? _If Cerberus wanted them, it's worth the risk. _The implication of their indoctrination plans is unsettling.

_You were lucky to have gotten out of there alive. Get your head in the game._

The shower helps clear her head. She dons her fatigues and throws her hoodie on, checking her e-mail one last time before exiting. Still no word. _You can write him. _What would she say? She could tell him everything is okay. She could tell him nothing has changed. _That's a lie. _She frowns, listening to the hum of the elevator as it takes her down to the third floor.

Everything changes. Liara is harder than before. EDI's a gynoid. Garrus is starting to worry about her, taking better shots than she is. Everyone has off days._ Keep telling yourself that._

Liara's cabin is to the left. She wanted to talk about progress on the Crucible but Shepard can hardly think straight. _Suck it up, Jane. _She takes a deep breath but stops when she spots Traynor in the mess hall. The Specialist is fiddling with a GUI chessboard. Traynor's staring thoughtfully at the board when she sees Shepard. She jumps to her feet and salutes. "Commander."

"At ease, Specialist." The woman relaxes, her arm falling back to her side but she doesn't quite meet her eyes. What is it about her that others find so intimidating? "Grissom was a success. We saved a lot of lives. It wouldn't have been possible if not for you."

"I don't know, Ma'am. You're better at shooting things than I am." She fidgets. When Shepard sits at the table, Traynor follows suit, the tips of her fingers, twitching along the holographic chessboard. "I... apologize for interrupting earlier. Grissom Academy looked to be crawling with Cerberus. So many red dots," she says a little breathlessly. "You're always in the fray. You have no idea what it's like watching with bated breath. _Can they really get out of this? _I'm not used to all this excitement."

Neither is she. "Were you scared?"

"I was... _vigilant_. And you're cocky."

"_I'm _cocky?"

Traynor smirks. "_I've got it all under control."_ Traynor's imitation of her is terrible. Shepard fights a smile. "Well, I admire all that bravado."

"It's not bravado if I'm not faking it." She isn't faking it, even if Traynor looks skeptical. Maybe it only seems like madness to believe it. The odds, they say, are insurmountable. Anderson and Hackett look scared. Garrus talks about all the lives that will be lost. James is angry. Liara doesn't sleep. She'll believe enough for all of them.

"Touché. I'd hate for you to fake anything." There's a twinkle in her eye and then she's looked away, down at her chessboard. "Erm- How was EDI? Have you seen that new suit? Oh, why am I asking. Of course you have. The black? It's very... shiny." This time Shepard smirks. "What's she like?"

"In the field, you mean?" She folds her arms on the table, wondering if she's imagining the darkening of her cheeks. "She's great. Brilliant tactician, perfect aim. Saved my ass today."

"I hadn't wanted to say so..." Traynor says lightly. Shepard frowns and just like that Traynor goes nervous again. She begins to gather her small stack of datapads. She's almost on her feet when Shepard grabs her arm. Traynor looks from it to her. Shepard lets go. Traynor sits. "I take it I'm not dismissed."

"Not yet." Shepard licks her lips, thinks. "Look... I'm sorry about before. In the Life Support room," she says quietly. EDI is always listening in but she'd prefer if the rest of the ship didn't know her business. "I had a lot on my mind and I took it out on you. It wasn't right."

"Are you sure? Maybe I'm still bitter about losing my tree house." Seconds of silence trickle by. Shepard can't tell if she's serious. Traynor laughs nervously. "I have got to leave the jokes to EDI. All's forgiven," she gets to her feet this time. "And even if it wasn't, what's my little peon anger going to do to the great commander Shepard?"

"My wager is nothing. 'The Great Commander Shepard' is unstoppable."

Traynor laughs again, all traces of nervousness gone. "I never doubted it for a second," she says with a wink. Follows it with a grimace. "Well, _this _peon is needed in CIC. May I be dismissed, oh-great-commander?"

"Dismissed, Specialist."

Traynor gives her a sassy salute and moves on her way. Shepard watches after her, not noticing right away that Liara has taken a seat across from her, expression curious. Something more. Then it's gone and she's all business again.


	9. Scattered

Shepard trusts Udina less than she can throw him but smiles for Ash, who mentions no less than ten times, how stir-crazy she's become in her hospital room. Her face remains bruised but she can stand and talk. Shepard is grateful. She would have liked her on the Normandy but she's lived long enough to know she doesn't always get her way. At least it mitigates any awkward encounter between Ashley and EDI. If she has to hear one more time how little faith Ash has in her she might start to take it personally.

Nor is she sure she needs another marine onboard worried so desperately about their family. Maybe she's lucky her family was wiped out on Mindoir. A line creases her brow. Ashley snaps at her. Shepard blinks. Ashley cocks an eyebrow. "Your drell boyfriend visited," she says again, giving a small shake of her head. "Seems nice enough."

"My 'drell boyfriend' would appreciate it," Shepard tells her dryly. She came to verify that Ash was alive and whether she'd be joining the Normandy. Answers in hand there's no reason for delay. "If you change your mind..."

"Sure you can handle a Cerberus hater onboard?"

Shepard pauses on her way to the door. "Sorry, LC. You don't have a monopoly on that sentiment anymore." She doesn't look back. Sometimes Ashley is so dense they could use her head as a battering ram.

* * *

The Citadel is vast. More so than any of the brochures, than any map could indicate. She's being pulled in every direction. Everyone needs something. Refusing at this point could mean taking a hit to their troop numbers; it isn't anything she can afford. She's got Hackett and Anderson breathing down her neck, along with Primarch Victus and every other diplomat from one end of one galaxy to the next. There are reasons for not visiting Thane.

When Liara brings it up, face buried in a datapad as she does so, Shepard is irked. "His medical prognosis does not bode well." She tells her as simply as if she were reading an item off the menu. _What, frog legs? _she hears Ashley's voice in her head. Maybe she's being unfair. "Have you seen him?"

Shepard reaches across and yanks the datapad down. Liara's eyes don't widen in surprise. She doesn't stammer or blush. Shepard remembers when she did those things constantly around her. "You've really got to work on your bedside manner, Doctor."

"Doctor? You're angry." Liara sets the datapad aside. "I'm not sure we have time for that. I've looked at your schedule. You've yet to meet with Barla'Von and Aria T'Loak is still waiting. I know you don't like her but we need everyone."

"Don't tell me what we need."

Liara stares at her before looking off to the side. Shepard follows her gaze but only sees the artificial blue of the Citadel and the cars hovering like bumble bees along the skies. "Perhaps you should visit him. It might set your mind at ease." Shepard frowns deeply. "Unless Specialist Traynor is more suitable."

She doesn't know what one has to do with the other. "Mind telling me what in the hell you're going on about?" But she doesn't want to hear whatever crackpot idea she's formed in her mind. "Actually, forget I said anything. Mind your own business, Liara. And stay out of mine."

"I will. Once you get your head in the game. EDI's mentioned you've been sleeping fitfully."

"EDI mentioned that?"

"Please, Shepard. You know she's incapable of controlling her mouth." Liara half rolls her eyes. Shepard wants to challenge Liara to deny that she spies on the crew but doesn't want another argument. "She's a Cerberus product. Don't you worry that she might still be communicating with the Illusive Man? Perhaps a few shackles would ease any concerns."

Shepard doesn't agree. She tries not to be distressed at the paranoid thought. Shackling EDI right now, as evolved as she's become, wouldn't feel right. "EDI's not Glyph." Liara responds with a shrug before taking a drink from the glass of lemonade at her side. "How's Feron? You were close to him, weren't you?" It's difficult not to think of Liara's facemarkings as eyebrows. They dip. "I won't make you talk about it."

Liara picks up another datapad and flicks through a few screens. "I've received a few tips on some war munitions we might be able to take advantage of. They're currently being guarded by the elite of the Citadel. They're being wasted. We could funnel those weapons to the parties that desperately need them. Palaven has lost a great deal of their stockpile. Those Reaper beams cut through everything."

"Those items should be donated to the war effort," she says cautiously.

"Those 'items' should, yes." Liara's smile nearly reaches her eyes. "I'm glad you see it my way. Now, will you apply pressure, or shall I?"

"Are those my only two options?"

"We can do it together."

Shepard massages her forehead. "Let me think about it."

* * *

It's 2:00 hours and Shepard scrutinizes the small pieces to the_ Normandy_ model replica. The real Normandy took a violent left turn in the midst of her gluing the wing on. It's slightly off center and driving her crazy. She isn't sure that she can, in good faith, allow it to join the others. Her eyes burn. She's been staring at the model for too long. She attempted rest at 22:00 hours and failed to grasp anything more than fitful snatches of sleep.

She exhales slowly and considers whether she can remove the wing without leaving a mark on the model. She stands with it, guiding it through the air in pretend flight. She thinks of the boy on Earth. Those fucking machines don't feel anything. How else could they snuff out a young life like that? Nausea racks her. Starting the medicinal regimen left her nauseas and dizzy. Getting off it leaves her much the same way. That must be it. The Normandy slips from her grasp. It falls to floor and breaks apart.

Shepard stares at it breathlessly.

Minutes later she goes to her laptop and drafts an email to Thane.

_I died once. I came back. I know we can win this war. Has surviving so much, so often, made me crazy?_

The cursor hovers over the 'send' button.

* * *

"Good morning, Commander," Traynor gives her a tight salute. Shepard nods in response. She's drained from another night of restless dreams and the black, sour coffee is settling in her stomach with the subtlety of bricks. "Excited for the diplomatic summit?"

"Is everyone en route?"

"Yes, Ma'am. They should arrive within a few hours." She looks her over. "Erm, if I may ask... are you planning for your attire to be..." she considers, "that?"

Shepard's well-aware of what she's wearing: her fatigues, same as everyone else, her hoodie. "Is there a problem with my uniform, Specialist?"

"It's non-regulation?"

Shepard pales as she takes another drink of the coffee. Maker. If the Reapers don't kill her, the coffee will. If not the coffee, Specialist Traynor's tireless observations. "Believe it or not, I know my way around protocol. More so than winking specialists?" Shepard bites back a smile. Traynor repeats the same wince of last time.

"Ah, yes, so sorry, Ma'am. Habit. Erm— not with you, of course, um..." she looks back wistfully at her terminal, eager to be dismissed and no doubt, Shepard thinks, get out of the awkward situation she put herself in. "I knew in the moment that it was wrong. But I thought it more pertinent to get back to my station on time and _not _spend _our _precious timegroveling. I do apologize if I offended, Commander. It was innocent."

Shepard isn't sure she was offended. She can't very well dock Traynor's pay and make her run laps when James sizes her up at every opportunity. _That ridiculous nickname needs to go_, she reminds herself. "None taken. I know you only have eyes for EDI." She smiles as Traynor waves her arms, encouraging her to drop the conversation. Once again she appears embarrassed. Once again she walks the fine line of appropriate behavior. "What's it like to live with a foot in your mouth?"

"Foot, arms and everything else, it would seem," Traynor looks around wildly. "EDI is my friend, Commander. I'd appreciate it if you didn't continue to ... erm. Tease me about that." She scratches her neck absently, looking back towards the bridge.

"I'd hate to embarrass you." She finishes the cup of coffee and sets it aside. "Don't worry. I have to be on my best behavior today, too. Hopefully my dress uniform will overshadow any fumbling words."

"That _might _work. Stop by when you dress up, will you? We can't afford you missing buttons or some other faux pas, can we?"

Traynor turns back to the console. Shepard looks down. Her hoodie's on inside out. _Of all the._


	10. Sins of the Spirit

a/n: Whoops. 37 chapters sitting on my computer and I forgot to upload. My bad! Two in a row to make up for it. (Sorry for flooding inboxes) 

* * *

He's haunted by his failure. His eidetic memory taunts him, playing over the few blissful moments they shared before revealing the cruel ending.

Ironically, he has felt better, stronger since he last sighted her. He takes advantage of his good health and takes up his physical regimen again. It's not like before. He knows it won't be but it's an improvement. Perhaps he'll prove the doctors wrong again. He tries not to lull himself into false hope.

It is a delicate balance.

His workouts, at least, give him a reprieve from memories of her. What was once a blessing has more recently become a curse. When he met her, he was a man trying to cleanse his spirit of sin. Now he takes comfort in those flashes of memory.

_He swings his fist. The man dodges left, thinks he's safe. The man has fallen into his trap. Thane's behind him now. He grabs his face from where he stands. He twists violently and hears a snap.  
_  
There's nothing he can do about his eidetic memory. It's difficult to control but there was a time when it was Jane who consumed him. Since their last parting he wakes feverishly in the night, soaked in cold perspiration and filled with regret.

He can still feel the light peck on his cheek. Her dismissal. He once kissed Kolyat's cheek the same way when he was sick as a boy. There was one other time.

_He will find them but he cannot be hindered by responsibilities. He kneels before him. Kolyat grabs his jacket. **Don't go.** Tears run down his young face. Thane wishes he could feel something but there's nothing there anymore. He kisses Kolyat's cheek, stands and leaves._

Was she bidding him goodbye?

He throws a few more punches before returning to a neutral position. He draws breath. A familiar burning fills his chest. He suppresses a cough and twines his fingers behind his back.

The calming blue of the Citadel sky does little to set him at ease. The galaxy is on the verge of collapse but he has faith. His Siha will remedy the situation. She'll give her life to the cause though Thane hopes she won't have to.

He considered going to the desert before his death. No doubt it would extend his life. But he worries about her. What if she needs him? _But what if she doesn't? _He dismisses any pitiful 'd like to be accessible to her.

The desert plans were made with hopes that she would accompany him. His time is limited and with the Reapers, it is more so. It seems fruitless to extend his life and see the desert without her. What little time he has left he would like to share with her.

Yet he has not heard from her. There should no longer be any trouble communicating with her. He's sure. His apartment, simple before seems barren without her, despite the limited time she spent in it.

Thane has considered contacting her. She is no doubt the most sought after individual in the galaxy. She is working herself to the bone. There are many things to preoccupy her mind. He is not vain enough to consider himself worthy of being at the top.

Perhaps she needs her space. He should give it to her. It's possible she's trying to create some distance between them. With enough time, with enough circumstances, it's possible her human mind can forget their last encounter, can shelve the unpleasantness that abruptly ended their last meeting. Namely himself.

The door to the apartment hisses open. Only he, and now Kolyat, have access. Thane sees his son's reflection on the glass. Like him, he is a serious man. More so than himself, Thane thinks grimly.

"You don't look as if you've been resting," Kolyat says sternly.

His son worries for him, at times practically smothering him with his cautious attention. An assassin, coddled by the son he abandoned. It's... well meaning. It's... embarrassing. He feels like an old man being scolded by his son. "I don't plan to pass in my sleep."

"You shouldn't overly exert yourself."

Whatever ego Kolyat once gave him benefit to, he no longer does so. Their relationship has progressed steadily, though it has not been without its bumps. His fall months ago scared Kolyat. He's been more vigilant since. His visits are more frequent, though he is often gone and Thane is unsure where to. He doesn't press. He knows he has no right to his son's personal life. It is the price he must pay for neglecting him in the past. "I'll be the judge of that," he tells him.

Kolyat moves to stand beside him. His features are somber. His jaw seems always to be squared in defiance. It pleases Thane to see such a forceful personality in his son. "I saw Commander Shepard a few weeks ago. At Apollo's Cafe. She was with an asari."

He doesn't see Samara spending time on the Citadel during a time like this. It must be Liara T'Soni. The woman who's carried a flame for his Siha for years now, unbeknownst to her. Joker and some of the other crew were overly chatty during his limited time on the Normandy. "I see," Thane says. She did not visit him. He feels a small sense of disappointment but no anger or surprise. Surprise has a way of amplifying emotions.

Thane feels Kolyat's curiosity and concern come off him. It's dampened soon after and then he changes the subject, talks to him about rumors of a new human Spectre: Ashley Williams. She will be a powerful force and help for Jane. She will lend the assistance that he cannot. Thane discusses the matter with Kolyat. The subject change is not subtle but he is grateful for it.


	11. Paranoid Gossip

Shepard survives the diplomats conference only to be immediately thrust into danger again. The pissy krogan practically commandeers the _Normandy_ in efforts to get to Sur'Kesh. What had been expected to be a clearcut mission to find the krogan females, has turned into another bloodbath.

Samantha is glued to the terminal, despite not being on shift. She puts in her earpiece and watches hordes of enemies congregate around them. Against her better judgment, she patches into the Commander's frequency to give her status updates. The squad jokes about a Yahg? She doesn't get it. The mission is a success but Samantha's heart isn't better for it.

"You have ensnared the hearts of Cerberus, Commander," Samantha says as soon as Shepard steps out of the elevator, pulling her helmet off. Her black hair is soaked in sweat, falling over her face and nearly to her shoulders. She smells disgusting. _So why so intent on speaking to her? _ "They certainly don't let up."

"They're just trying to get their investment back," Shepard goes to her communications terminal and wipes absently at the blood streaming down her temple. Samantha looks about uselessly for a handkerchief and comes up empty. "Don't worry, I'm hard to kill," she winks.

Samantha wonders if she knows that she winks. Her heart flutters. _Try to keep your impossible crushes to one, Sam. The AI gynoid wasn't enough? Now you're eyeing the first human Spectre? _"Oh. Hackett wants to arrange a vidcall with you. And you've several new emails."

"I'll get on it, Specialist. As soon as I've hit the showers," Shepard wrinkles her nose. "Sorry. I must smell worse than krogan shit about now."

"I heard that, Shepard!" Wrex calls over. He dwarfs the space, making it look like a miniature set. "And you're damn right."

"You _are_ an honorary krogan," Samantha tries to breathe through her mouth.

"Laugh it up while you can," Shepard retreats to the elevator, sweat still running down her face. "Ever been to Sur'Kesh, Specialist?" Samantha shakes her head. Her family never had much money. Had they, she may have been well traveled. As it is, the Alliance, and the _Normandy_ in particular, have given her the option of seeing parts of the galaxy she would have never dreamed of. "Remind me to take you there after we've stopped the Reapers. It's beautiful."

Samantha stares dumbly at the elevator doors as they slide to a close. Did Commander Shepard just ask her out on a date? After the war? _You idiot. Grow up. Not every friendly woman is hitting on you. _Wrex and Garrus stare at her. She turns to the terminal, swallowing the lump in her throat. The heat in her cheeks is another matter.

_{ Have you considered asking Commander Shepard out, Samantha? } _The words scrawl on her screen. EDI! Samantha doesn't blink. She looks around her anxiously. Normally she'd flirt but Joker might conveniently decide to tip the _Normandy_ just as she's stepping off and throw her into the abyss. _{ You are not currently on-duty. I thought the topic appropriate. }_

_{ I don't know what you mean. }_

_{ Your blood and heart readings say otherwise. }_

"Great," she mutters. Westmoreland, passing by, cocks an eyebrow. _And now you've been caught talking to yourself. You should be the poster child for the Alliance. Also, women on a career track to become cat ladies. { You cannot possibly tell that. Can you? }_

_{ Your search history indicates you enjoy strategy games. Perhaps you should have a game night. }_

Would Shepard go for that? What is she thinking? Shepard surely has... someone. Doesn't she? _Yes. Probably of the __**male**__ variety? _ She considers asking EDI but is too embarrassed. _But you're __**not **__embarrassed by your search history? Wait. Does she have access to __**everything**__? _She's momentarily paralyzed. _Get a grip. EDI has more important things to attend to. { I've got some work to do! }_

_{ You're off shift— }_

She logs out of the computer and tries to ignore Wrex, who keeps looking at her and laughing. "Heh, heh, heh." _What's so funny?_ She doesn't see EDI's mobile platform on the bridge. She stealths to the cockpit and crashes into the co-pilot seat.

Joker pulls his hat off, runs his fingers over his cropped hair before sliding it back on. "Uh, what the hell are you doing? You'd better be prepared to help me pilot this thing at a moment's notice if you're ballsy enough to take a seat." He laughs and tries to usher her away from but Samantha doesn't move. If the bloody apocalypse comes (again) she can _stand up. _"That's _EDI's _seat."

"I understand that," she whispers.

"Why are you whispering?" he mockingly whispers back. She looks around again. No one is in the parameter. Except for EDI, who like a God, is omnipresent. Her face burns again. "Spit it out, Traynor."

"Commander..." she speaks more quietly, "Shepard." He waits. "Is she... erm... involved?"

Joker laughs. "_That's_ what you came up here for? Hey, EDI-" Samantha waves her arms and he rolls his eyes. "You _do know _she can hear us, right?"

"Not if we ask for privacy."

He rolls his eyes again. "I'm giving up on you making sense." He scratches his beard. "Kaidan used to have a crush on her. He's dead now," he makes a face. "Uh, that's unrelated. Fucking geth. Liara," he lowers his voice and looks around as well. She feels vindicated that there is another to share in her paranoid gossiping, "has a thing for her? She's never said that or anything but I mean, come on, she went to the ends of the galaxy to get Shepard's body back from the worst scum of the universe." Her body? Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Is this ... a sex thing? That might explain her lingering looks Shepard's way. _So you have a Prothean expert, biotic powerhouse and stunning asari as competition, no big. __**Competition? **_"But I don't know that Shepard's ever paid attention to her. Shepard plays it pretty close to the vest. Last I knew, she was involved with Thane. But that's a secret EDI told me," he whispers again.

"Thane?" More whispering.

"Some brooding drell assassin type? Total badass. He killed a krogan with a toothpick once."

"Oh." That settles that. It isn't as if she can set her eyes on EDI while talking to the smart-assed pilot that has a thing for her. She relinquishes the seat. "My curiosity has been sated. Thank you."

"Yeah, sure. Hey, my morale is slipping..."

"I'll send EDI your way if I see her..."

The conversation leaves her tired. Shepard doesn't strike her as the two-timing sort. _An assassin, you say? But how can he compete with my passion for strategy games? _Doomed, doomed, she's doomed. _Ah, well. No one is stripping you of your fantasy. She's your commanding officer, remember? _

She's relieved. There's no reason to be nervous. _She's stunning, has eyes like sapphires, flushed lips and cheeks and has saved the world twice. In this instance it's acceptable to lower your standards. _She steps into the elevator as soon as the doors open.

Shepard is there, freshly clean, having slipped into her hoodie. "You know," she tells Samantha, "we don't really have a budget for overtime right now." She smiles pleasantly. Samantha doesn't have the heart to tell her that the elevator doors have closed and the elevator is descending. "Stick to duty hours."

"We all make sacrifices for the war effort," she says chipperly.

"We could suit you up and you could hit the ground running with us sometime."

Samantha laughs. "Oh, right. Here I am: the next human Spectre. My shriek of terror will surely mow the Reapers down."

"Actually, looks like Williams is going to be taking that helm," Shepard muses, amused and distant in one.

"Ah. She must be feeling better. That's good. I know- I mean. When it happened... you seemed worried." The elevator is notoriously slow. Samantha watches the numbers tick down. When they reach the shuttle bay, Samantha steps out. She hadn't pressed the button but she sure as hell won't let Shepard know she missed her floor.

Shepard steps out with her before just as quickly, jamming a hand between the sliding doors. She almost looks bashful stepping into the elevator. "Wrong floor," she jabs at the elevator button, stuffs her hands into her hoodie. "Back to the grind." She dips her head, contemplative. Maybe just tired.

"Commander-" Once again, Shepard thrusts her hands between the elevator doors to stop it. Samantha doesn't know what she meant to say. _Why Sur'Kesh? Who's the boyfriend? Are you all right? Are you tired? Can you keep this up? You're beautiful._ "Um... congratulations on putting your clothing on the right way this time. I'm very proud of you."

"Oh, piss off." The elevator doors close with a grin on her lips. Samantha smiles faintly, not entirely sure why she feels dispirited.


	12. Battlespace!

The Citadel is massive!

Samantha hurries after Diana who moves with remarkable determination; a journalist's focus! Diana isn't like the reporters she's used to. She's blase in her reports, absent of the fire that Khalisa al-Jilani wields. She's snark and glamour with her too tight designer clothing. The pumps she wears show off her surprisingly well-shaped calves.

Things on the Normandy have been hectic. There's hardly a moment to breathe. Samantha hasn't spent any time with the few acquaintances she's made. Throwing herself into work has been a wonderfully cliche way to avoid thinking about the end of the world, all her probably dead friends and that she hasn't heard from her parents in weeks. _Lines of communication are down everywhere. Think you could get Commander Shepard to requisition you some QECs for your parents? It's not like the war effort needs them. After that, she'll blow off saving the world and jump you to Horizon so you can drop them off. She could meet the parents! __**What? **__**Why?**_

"Move your ass, Sam. News doesn't wait."

"I thought this was a scheduled interview?"

"What can I say? I'm an optimist and I like to bet on my persuasiveness."

Samantha groans inwardly. Shore leave has been a distant dream since the Reapers attacked. Now that she's finally gotten some time to relax she's allowed Diana to kidnap her- and talk her into lugging her media equipment around. "Let's get it done. I need to get some time in for shopping. And dancing!" She wants to keep busy.

The Citadel is impossibly long. Samantha hoped they'd be spending the majority of the day at the Presidium but Diana leads her to the Wards. She was born and raised in Horizon and spent her college years in London. None of it was quite so grim. She lifts her eyes to the black skies and the glowing buildings and is happy that at least it isn't raining. "Let's cab," she says. Her arms are getting numb and hot from dragging the equipment.

Diana stops abruptly in front of one of the buildings and flings one of the doors open. Sam jumps back to avoid being hit. "All right, I've had it. Carry your own crap." Diana tosses back an irritated expression before joining her, grabbing the handle of the media crate and yanking it to the elevators. The building looks slightly nicer on the inside than on the outside. The lighting is startlingly bright. It's surprisingly clean. The elevator on the other hand, rattles as they take it up. "What if they're not home," Samantha switches hands on the box, flexing her fingers. Diana's let it go again.

They walk down the slim, black and white checkered hallway and Diana stops, pulls a compact from her purse and examines her reflection. "Perfect," she says with a toothy smile. "This is it." She snaps the compact shut and unlocks the crate. A few button pushes and the camera shoots into the air, hovering behind them, flashing blinding light. Samantha stumbles out of the way in time for Diana to knock on the door. There's no answer and Diana frowns and knocks again. When the door opens she pastes the smile back onto her lips.

The tattooed brunette at the door looks mad enough to beat them into pulp. Oh, but she's attractive. Samantha winces. "What the hell is this?" the brunette asks. What is she wearing? Bandages? A sexy, cropped leather jacket. _Look at those hips! _Samantha's face goes hot. The woman sizes Diana up and then Samantha, dismissing her even more quickly. "Is that a camera? Get that fucking thing out of my face."

Diana has the balls to turn her back to her and smile into the camera. "This is Diana Allers with _Battlespace_, here at the Citadel Wards with Jack- the hero professor from Grissom Academy! With the help of Commander Shepard, she fought off a Cerberus attack intent on murdering the prestigious biotic students in attendance. Jack, can you tell the viewers watching a little bit about yourself and exactly what happened at the school?"

"You can go fuu..." A blue aura surrounds the woman. She glares at the camera. Then looks around the corner at Samantha. "Who the hell are you?"

Diana doesn't miss a beat. The camera shines on Samantha, who looks to and fro desperately but can't find anywhere to hide. "_Battlespace _viewers, this is a real treat. Meet Samantha Traynor: a communications specialist aboard the _Normandy_ who traced a distress signal coming from Grissom Academy and encouraged Commander Shepard to check it out, resulting in many saved young lives. Samantha, what can you tell us about your role in this?"

Samantha stares at the blinding light. All she can see is white. She feels hot and sweaty, her heart ratchets. How long has she been silent? It feels like eons. _Hi, Mum! _"Erm-" she stammers. "I'm afraid that's... classified?"

"You're the kid?" Jack asks. She lifts a hand, sending the hovering camera careening into a wall. Diana yelps and chases after it. "Yeah, Shepard mentioned something about you."

Shepard mentioned her...? Everything goes silent, Diana's strained voice going on about technical difficulties seeming all too far away.

* * *

"I'm shit-canning her."

Shepard barrels down the small corridors of the Normandy. Samantha, who is in a deep conversation with James on the benefits of tofu and similarities between turian paste stares after her.

"Hey, who's balls are you busting now, Lola?" James calls out.

"Now's not the time, James," Shepard doesn't stop. She's on a mission.

James and Samantha exchange looks. "Should we spy?" James asks.

"Definitely." _It's not insubordination. It's curiosity! _Neither are cats, both will be safe. They creep down the hallway, following her to Diana Allers room. Her quarters are generous, to say the least. She gets her own room, a massive one at that, on a ship where every square inch is sacred! _Not that I'm bitterly jealous. _

The door is thick metal. Any spying she and James might have done is useless. The best they can hear is muffled voices. Shepard's is loudest. Minutes pass. Then the door hisses open and Shepard exits. They wilt under her steely gaze. "Don't you two have anything better to do?" she pushes past them and beats it to the elevator.

James and Samantha stand wordlessly before pressing into the room. Diana wipes hastily at her cheeks, flashing a dazzling smile at them. "Well, boys and girls. Looks like this was my last show at the rodeo."

* * *

Shepard is aggressively eating a bowl of cereal when Samantha finds her. She takes heaping spoonfuls, crunching every bite loudly. Cereal finished, drinking the extra milk from the bowl, she pours another serving (_is that Lucky Widgets?) _before practically ripping the refrigerator door open to fiend for milk. She pours a healthy amount before glancing warily at her.

"You have something to say to me, Specialist?" Shepard digs into the cereal bowl. Samantha moves cautiously around the kitchen island, folding her arms carefully on the counter. "You and Allers were friendly."

"Still are." She laces her fingers. "You're my commanding officer. I know there is likely very little I can say to sway your decision-" Shepard's frantic spoonfuls slow. "But I have to _try._ Diana is a good journalist. Do you _know _how many people watch _Battlespace?_ Her ratings are through the roof. She's good for morale. With this war, there are few things so precious as hope."

"I get that, Traynor, but she compromised the security of this ship, the security of those Grissom Academy students, the mission and _you. _Cerberus is already up our ass. They don't need us throwing leads at them. For all we know, they'll hit the Citadel next. If they wanted those kids, they wanted them for a reason." She finishes her second bowl of cereal and satisfied, puts it into the sink. Samantha wonders if she'll wash it. "I'm sorry but the decision stands."

"Yes, Ma'am." She salutes.

Shepard looks more deflated for it. "It was a trial basis. Every story had to go through me first. She knew that."

"You don't have to explain to me, Ma'am." Samantha's surprised she's trying to. Shepard has more immediate everything to attend to, and a galaxy to save.

"Hey, at least I didn't throw her out an airlock."

Samantha smiles. "So throw you a bone?" She nearly asks why Shepard singled her out in the roster of those possibly compromised by Diana's report. Did Jack make up that Shepard mentioned her? But why lie about some nobody crew member? _Don't get any ideas. _"I'm going to prelude the next bit with 'I will miss Diana so much' and immediately follow it with 'can I have her room'?"

Shepard tsks. "So much for loyalty. Tell you what, Traynor. You keep finding hidden batches of data, and I'll see if I can make some room for you."

Samantha laughs a dizzying, nervous sound.


End file.
